


FrUk Week 2020

by LukaTheSelkie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukaTheSelkie/pseuds/LukaTheSelkie
Summary: Cross-posted from TumblrDay 1: Nyo/[Space]Day 2: [Highschool]/GothicDay 3: [Beach]/PunkDay 4: [Monster]/CardverseDay 5: [Coffee Shop]/Flower ShopDay 6: 2p/[FACE]Day 7: Free
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Day One - Space

**Author's Note:**

> This turned into angst real fast. I didn’t intend for it to be, it was meant to be cutesy, I SWEAR. But then a voice inside me said, “They’re unable to express their love for each other openly,” and that was it. Angst. Still, I hope you all enjoy!

“Hey, Arthur,” He makes a soft noise at Francis so he knows he’s paying attention. He feels his hand being squeezed tightly for a moment, before he hears a sigh. “What do you think we look like to them?” His voice is soft, and full of wonder. It takes Arthur’s breath away. God, he’s so helplessly in love with the man laying next to him. By ‘them’, he means the stars they’re gazing at. He thinks for a long moment, making a point to squeeze Francis’ hand back.

“I’m not quite sure, love. Maybe ants? Or, perhaps we’re so small to them, we’re practically atoms? It is an interesting question. One that makes you think.” He feels him nod, hair brushing against his neck. Arthur inhales sharply, and lets it out slowly. He hears a snicker from beside him. “You shush. You know my neck is sensitive.”

“Oui! And that’s exactly why I made sure to lay my head so close. I wanted to torture you with every movement I make.” Francis turns his head, and places a soft kiss on the side of his neck. “Merci for answering my question. You’re probably right, you know. About us appearing as nothing more than atoms to them. It’s hard to imagine.” Arthur shifts a bit, scooting closer to him. He laughs breathlessly, right in his ear. It’s another way to tease him. He feels him stiffen, but that’s all. That he can tell without looking at him, anyway. He’s sure his face is red. But the night sky is more interesting right now. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be up there? In space, I mean. We wouldn’t have to worry about anything. No bosses, no politics, no responsibilities... no hiding our love. We could dance on the moon.” Francis sighs sadly. “What a silly dream.”

“I think you’ve got the words ‘silly’ and ‘wonderful’ mixed up.” Francis shoves him playfully.

“You know what I meant.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” Arthur closes his eyes. “But entertain me. What else would you want to do in space?” He imagines them dancing on the moon. Sound might not travel in space, but it definitely travels in his mind. They’re dancing to a slow song, one that he’s heard a million times but never learned the name of. There’s no lyrics, only instrumental. It’s beautiful. They’re beautiful. Francis is beyond stunning, dressed all in white.

“Well… We could picnic on asteroids.” Arthur laughs quietly.

“That’s a good one. Imagine it with me. Close your eyes.” He does as he’s told.

“We could have more food than we would know what to do with! And no one could tell us it’s too much. No one could make us feel guilty when we wind up eating it all. And we could eat as many sweets as we wanted!”

“And junk food.” Francis nods his head frantically. Plenty of junk food! He imagines a huge picnic, covering the side of a giant asteroid, completely made of desserts and junk food. His heart pangs with want.

“But most of all, I would love you freely. And there would be no one there to tell us we can’t tell the entire world. And if they tried, we could always send them back here. We could claim an asteroid as a country. Our country. One that lets us live freely. No worries about what might happen if others knew how much we love each other.” Arthur pulls him close.

“That would be the first thing we do, love. I promise, if we ever get the opportunity to actually live in space, I’m going to do all of these things with you. And more.” He kisses his forehead. “Sleep now. I love you. Let’s have sweet dreams of our space country.”

“I love you too. So much. And I’ll gladly dream of it.” Francis cuddles into him happily. It isn’t long before they’re both asleep, dreaming of exactly what they wanted.

~

In passing, Arthur grabs Francis’ hand shyly, and places something in it. The Frenchman looks around in a panic, and hisses out at him, “We’re on a meeting break! Someone could have seen you do that!”

“I checked. No one saw. Please, just look at it.” Arthur tilts his head slightly as he continues past, sorrow making his heart heavy. “Hopefully this can make up for some of the pain,” he whispers to himself.

“What’s he given me now?” Francis mumbles as he holds up the item. His breath catches in his throat, and happy tears come to his eyes. It’s a silver chain with a glass charm on it. The charm is in the shape of a heart, and it’s filled with something shimmery and white. It’s likely glitter, but he’d like to believe the little label that reads _Stardust_ attached to the heart. He hurries to put it on, not caring if anyone notices. This gift means too much to him to ever take it off. He lifts it up to look at it, and laughs brokenly when a tiny note that says _I love you_ presses against the glass. “I love you too, Arthur,” he whispers after him, though he’s been out of sight for nearly a minute now. He feels a tear land on his cheek. Maybe, one day, they can tell others they’re in love without having to worry about being torn apart.


	2. Day Two - Highschool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so fun! I absolutely loved writing this. I might wind up writing more in this universe. They’re adorable.

"Death unto thee!" Arthur groans loudly as he passes by the auditorium. Of _course_ drama class has to be in there while he's studying after school. There's a shriek, then someone storms through to doors, just as he's passing by. The person bumps into him, causing the books in his arms to go everywhere. He glares daggers at the person that bumped into him, but they're already on the ground, picking up the books. He sighs and kneels next to them, picking up the few loose papers that flew out of them. He huffs angrily when they hand him his books.

"Thanks for nothing," he grumbles out, lifting his head to narrow his eyes at his assailant. He never does though, because he's too busy screaming. A hand is placed over his mouth, and the boy gives him a reassuring smile.

"It's fake blood. See?" He lifts up his shirt, exposing... nothing. Well, that's not entirely true, there's red liquid that transferred from his shirt, but there's definitely not a wound, like Arthur had previously thought. He shoves the hand away, shaking his head.

"Do you always touch strangers without permission?" The theater person laughs, and holds out his hand.

"Not usually! My name's Francis. What's yours?" He scrunches up his nose in distaste.

"None of your business, I believe. Please tell me this stuff is washable." He motions at the fake blood on his shirt and books. Francis gives him a wicked grin.

"Oh yeah! It's super easy to get out! I've washed a white shirt with it on it and been able to wear it again. And not as a pink shirt, either!" Arthur takes a step back from him. This boy is insane. "And not red, of course. It was white still." He runs a hand through his hair, making it even more wild than it already is. Arthur is reminded of a lion's mane, that's how messy it is. And that's about the right colour, too. "Anyway, I better get back in there! They'll want to run the scene again! I've got to die more dramatically next time. Here!" He hands him a strip of paper with a phone number on it. "I want to make this up to you. I'm sorry for getting blood on you. Text me! Or call, I don't mind either," he says as he winks at him, running back through the doors. He peeks his head back out long enough to blow him a kiss, witch Arthur *does not* catch.

"Stupid drama students," he growls out, under his breath. "Not everyone has as fluid a sexuality as you do!" He yells after him, though he's certain he's out of earshot. He clutches his books close to his chest, and walks to the classroom next to the auditorium. He tries not to focus on the words and music that drift through the wall, but it's no use. They're too distracting. After maybe fifteen minutes, he can't handle it anymore. He stands abruptly, and storms out of the classroom. Locations he's allowed be damned! He's going to the library. Francis storms out of the doors again as he passes.

"Ah, hello again! I really must get back in there, they fussed last time you see, but I thought I should say hello. And goodbye!" He tilts his head slightly, and disappears back into the room. Arthur's eye twitches. He's got more fake blood on him now. Great. He sighs deeply, and hurries along to the library. He places his books down at a table, and looks down at himself.

"Stupid, dumb, cute dork," he mumbles, going to the restroom to clean himself up. He wets some paper towels, wiping frantically at his shirt and pants. He manages to get most of it out with some persistence, but it leaves behind some little paper rolls on his clothes. He brushes them off the best he can, grimacing at the feeling of them. He makes sure to do it over the trash so he's not making a huge mess. He makes his way back to the library, sitting down heavily. He opens his books so he can *finally* study in peace.

~

"Hey!" Arthur squeezes his eyes shut tightly. He knows that voice. The boy runs up beside him. "You didn't text me. Or call. Were you busy?"

"Please, leave me be. I have to get to class." Francis scoffs.

"I think you can be a few minutes late to band." Arthur lets out a heavy sigh, opening his eyes.

"I don't even want to know why or how you know I'm in band. But it's important I be on time. We're going out to the field today. I can't be late for that."

"I'll come out with you! I'm helping re-line it. They're starting to fade." Arthur rubs his temples. Of course. He lifts his head up to tell him off, but his words die on his lips. Dear God! Francis is actually attractive, now that he's not covered in fake blood and his hair is tame. Well, mostly tame. There's still some flyaways here and there, but it's *much* more kempt than it was yesterday afternoon. And he can actually distinguish some waves in it. They're pretty. But that doesn't make up for him flirting!

"Go without me. I have to get my instrument."

"I can wait." Arthur sighs.

"Fine. Do what you want. I'm tired of trying to get through your thick skull." He turns, and walks toward the band room. He goes straight for his locker to get his drumsticks and tom drums. He places an extra set of sticks in his waistband, just in case. He carefully carries them through the door, frowning when he sees Francis standing where he left him. That expression is new though. "What? Didn't expect me to play the drums?" He smirks at him. "I thought that might surprise you."

"Hmm? No, I'm not surprised. Maybe a bit shocked to see you playing the largest set, but not shocked you play drums. You seem like the type to rock." Arthur's eye twitches again. Francis is getting under his skin, and he hates it. He continues past him, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. "Y'know, you're pretty cute. Do you happen to be anything besides straight? Because if so, I'd like to ask you out." Arthur quickens his pace, but he keeps up with him. Wonderful.

"You don't even know my name. Why are you asking me out?"

"Because I find you interesting and I want to get to know you better. As someone I'm in a relationship with. I already like you too much to just be friends. ...Arthur."

"Who told you?"

"Gilbert. Are all of your flutes as interesting as him?" Arthur snorts quietly.

"The flutes cause the most trouble! They're really close with each other. I've never seen a better family." Francis smiles at him.

"So you *do* have a soft side. I knew it was in there." He bumps into him lightly. Arthur looks over at him.

"You won't be seeing it much. You're annoying." Francis laughs loudly.

"I like you. A lot. You're the only person to be so blunt with me from the first meeting. Please, at least consider it. I won't bother you about it anymore. But I would like to stay by your side until we have to part ways, if you don't mind that." Arthur huffs quietly, and grabs his hand.

"You're persistent. As annoyed as that makes me, it's also a trait I look for in people I get in a relationship with. So my answer is yes. I will go out with you." Francis' eyes light up, and he presses a quick kiss to Arthur's cheek. "You get by with that one. But don't do it again without permission!"

"Yessir!" There's a moment of silence, then they both burst into laughter. Maybe having Francis as a boyfriend won't be so bad.


	3. Day Three - Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short, but honestly I’m proud of it. Rarely ever do I write England afraid of something. He likes to pretend he doesn’t fear anything, but he’ll open up to his lover.  
> Warnings: Body insecurity mentioned, but it’s not a main theme

Francis grabs hold of Arthur’s hand gently. “Please come swim with me, mon cher. The water isn’t too cold.” The Brit shakes his head, tugging his hand away from his boyfriend. He didn’t even let him pull him up.

“I’m not feeling up to it.” Francis frowns slightly, brows furrowed. Arthur’s stomach twists in guilt, and he looks away from him. “You can have fun without me, alright? Play in the waves with GIlbert and Antonio.”

“Non, I want you with us. What’s wrong?” He steps closer to him. “Are you sick?” He plops down next to him, placing his wrist on his forehead. “You don’t feel warm, but that doesn’t mean you’re not sick. Do you need me to take you home?”

“Francis, I’m fine. I just don’t want to swim.” He looks him over—he’s wearing long sleeves, capris, and socks—then wraps an arm around his waist, being careful not to get him wet.

“Alright. But if you’re not going in, then I’ll stay with you.” Arthur sighs, shaking his head.

“You can go have fun. I don’t mind watching. In fact, it’s fun watching.”

“I would rather be by my boyfriend’s side.” Francis lays his head on his shoulder, thankful he put his hair up in a bun to keep it from getting wet. They stay in silence for awhile, watching the others have fun in the waves coming in. When he can’t take his mind nagging at him anymore, he speaks again. “Arthur, it’s alright if you’re self conscious. You can swim in that. Well, maybe not the socks so you aren’t torturing yourself, but everything else. No one will care. And I’ll make sure they don’t say anything about it.” Francis brushes his nose against his cheek lovingly.

“I’m not _just_ self conscious. I’m scared.” He trembles slightly. His boyfriend holds him closer, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey. There’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ve already scared away anything dangerous. And you don’t have to go as far out as the others.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Arthur mumbles, burying his face in his chest.

“Sunburn? I can put some sunscreen on you.”

“No. Well, yes, that’s part of it, but no. I don’t… Francis, I’m scared the ocean will revert me back to my pirate days.” He clings to him tighter.

“Ah.” His voice is quiet. He positions himself in front of Arthur, and gives him a reassuring smile. “You won’t be on a boat. The ocean will be in charge this time. And, if that’s not enough to convince you, look at Antonio and I. Did we revert back?” He watches his boyfriend shake his head slightly. “Then I’m sure you won’t. But, if you’re still worried, I’ll stay by your side. I want to have a fun day with you.”

“I’m… not so sure…” He pulls Francis close again.

“Alright. I won’t push you.” He wraps his arms around him. “But I still want to have fun with you. How about we move your umbrella closer to the water, and make a sandcastle?” Arthur looks at him, face lighting up.

“We might be able to do that,” he whispers, trying to seem nonchalant despite his excitement. Francis kisses his nose, then stands. He grabs hold of the umbrella and carries it closer to the water, Arthur trailing after with his bag of items. He places it in the sand, shoving it a bit when he’s finished to make sure it’s deep enough. Satisfied, he helps his lover set up. Once they’re done, they sit on the towel and get to work building the perfect sandcastle. It’s the best day at the beach either has had in a long time.


	4. Day Four - Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this was so much fun to write! Kind of a human medieval-ish AU? I’m not really sure how to classify this lol  
> I’m really glad I had some fae knowledge under my belt, otherwise this would have been a HEFTY research mission. Of course, I took some liberties of my own to fit with the prompt.  
> Warnings: Cussing, fae

Arthur squints in the quickly darkening evening, desperately searching for anything that looks familiar. Unfortunately for him, nothing does. Shit. It’s not safe to be in the forest at night. Not with the fae roaming around. He struggles to pull his Joan-the-wad charm out of his pocket, panicking about the growing night. He squeezes it tightly in his fist to help reassure himself. Will-o’-the-wisps aren’t the only type of fae he has to worry about though. He brings his hand up to his throat, and relaxes a bit when his fingers brush against the iron chain there. Good. He’s still got his bell. He holds the charm in his hand up, and closes his eyes to recite a rhyme his brother taught him. “Jack-the-lantern, Joan-the-wad, that tickled the maid and made her mad, light me home, the weather’s bad.”

Does a rapidly setting sun bringing the night over an area he doesn’t know count as bad weather? He shakes his head slightly. No, they aren’t completely literal. Something bright flickers into existence beyond his eyelids. He snaps his eyes open, and the breath is knocked out of him. He hadn’t expected that to work. Especially not so soon. He rubs hard at one of his eyes, bringing spots to his vision to make sure it’s not one of those. No, it definitely isn’t. Maybe his brother was onto something. But he shouldn’t focus on that. Not right now, anyway. There’s a fucking Will-o’-the-wisp in front of him! Well, it’s a few meters away, maybe thirty, but it’s still _there._ “Bloody hell!” There’s a glint of something golden in the light. Just a trick of the mind…? No, there it is again! He steps closer, and the strange fire-light flits off. He races after it without a second thought. “Wait! Please! Jack-o’-the-lantern? Joan-the-wad? I need help finding my way home!” He wouldn’t be so bold if he didn’t have his protective items on him. But since he does, he’s a bit more confident in himself. Only a bit though. He’s not going to leave the trail. That’s asking to be drowned or dropped off a cliff or- the light stops.

“Leave me be!” Arthur stumbles at the unexpected voice, and freezes once he’s steady again. What? The? Hell?

“Who said that!? Come out! I know you’re there!” The Will-o’-the-wisp floats closer. Enchanted by its beauty, he reaches out a hesitant hand toward it. He doesn’t plan on touching it. He knows better than that. But it’s just so lovely! It comes into contact with his fingers of its own accord. It tickles a bit. Incredibly, a man appears next to it. Not out of the darkness, more like out of thin air. Like he’s fading into existence. Arthur flinches away from the Will-o’-the-wisp, eyes snapping over to the stranger. He’s golden. No, that’s not quite right. His hair is golden, as are his clothes, but his skin looks normal. Maybe a bit more sunkissed than his own, but it still looks human. But this man most certainly is _not._ The stranger scowls.

“I told you to leave me alone!” The dancing light by his head flares up brightly, then fizzles out. He sighs heavily, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair. He’s ethereal. And Arthur’s almost certain he’s glowing faintly. Then, it hits him.

“Are you… Jack-o’-the-lantern?” The man frowns deeply.

“Non! Why would you insult me like that? Jack-o’-the-lantern is mischievous! Much more mischievous than the rest of my kind. That includes me.” He places his hands on his hips. The movement unnerves Arthur. It’s too fluid. Almost floaty. It’s confusing and scary. He takes a step back, shaking his head.

“Your kind?” His voice comes out in a whisper. Great. Now he knows about the fear he’s causing. He quirks his lips up into an amused grin.

“Will-o’-the-wisps, of course! Or did you not just see me transform into a form you know well? Should I do it again?”

“No!” He takes a soft breath. “Please, don’t. That was confusing and terrifying. Stay as you are. I didn’t know Will-o’-the-wisps could transform like this.” He looks the man over. He really is stunning.

“Mmm, well, not all of us can. In fact, most of us can’t. Only the ones that are strong or used to be human but were cursed.” Arthur’s afraid to ask which one the stranger is. A few minutes of silence pass of the two just staring at each other, when the golden man rolls his eyes. “Well? Aren’t you going to introduce yourself? _You_ had me show myself.”

“Absolutely not. I am no stranger to the fae.”

“Fair enough. But you don’t have to worry about me. I used to be human. My name is Francis. The women of my village were so jealous of my appearance, they dug up old spells to curse me. They didn’t know I would get more beautiful. It is unfortunate I was turned into a feu follet though. They’re notorious for leading travelers to their death. I was labeled a monster, and ran out of the country. Where am I now?”

“England,” he says cautiously. “And you’re from France.”

“Oui, I am. You are very intelligent.” Arthur grimaces. “Non? You don’t think you are?”

“I do think I am, but I don’t need a fae complimenting me so.” Francis rolls his eyes again.

“Did you not hear me? I am a human!” Arthur narrows his eyes at him. He pulls out the iron bell around his neck and holds it out to him, watching for a reaction.

“Iron still burns me, you know. I learned that the hard way. It likely doesn’t hurt as much as true fae though. I can still touch it for short periods of time and be unbothered. See?” He pushes the hand down, making sure to come in contact with the bell. “Do you still distrust me? I can give you the name of my village, and some of the people there.”

“I don’t trust you because you’re a stranger. But you have given me enough proof that you were not born a fae I believe you. However, I still will not be disclosing my name.” Francis shrugs.

“Do what you want. Can I go back to floating about now?” The light flickers back to life, and the man fades a bit.

“Wait! Do you know where my home is? I’m lost and need help finding my way back.”

“I can lead you in the direction you came from when you first travelled through here. Other than that, I cannot help. I do not stray from here. This is my new home.” His human form fizzles out of existence, and Arthur frowns. What a miserable place to live.

~

“Francis!” Arthur isn’t sure how, but he’s grown feelings for the strange used-to-be-human fae. Maybe it’s all the visits they’ve had in the past eight months. They keep bumping into each other, in the forest. He’s not too sure Francis isn’t doing it on purpose. Or he could just be so bad at recognizing landmarks, he always winds up in the same area without realizing it. Whatever it is, he’s not sure how he feels about falling in love with the man. They can’t exactly be together. They’re two men! And Francis is a Will-o’-the-wisp. A monster. But he’s not a monster. He’s attractive, funny, and a sweetheart. A bit of a pervert, sure, but he never does anything without consent.

“Oui?” He turns his head toward the voice, smiling at the familiar flickering light. He’s beautiful in both forms. He lands on Arthur’s nose, causing him to laugh.

“That tickles! Stop it!” His human form appears in front of him as the light fades.

“That is why I do it. I enjoy hearing your laughter. It brings me joy.” Oh. That’s something he forgot. Francis is a huge flirt, and that could be part of the reason he loves him as well. It’s hard not to gain an attachment to the only person that’s ever flattered him like that. He wraps his fingers around the item in his pocket. “But that is not why you called me, I am sure. What is it?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” Francis raises a brow at him, expression turning to one of curiosity. “Will you… Francis, will you…” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and takes a deep breath. “Here!” He yanks his hand out of his pocket and shoves the item into his chest. Francis pries his fingers open carefully, and a smile blooms on his lips.

“What is this?” He picks it up, staring at the long chain.

“It goes in your hair, on top of your head. Like a crown,” he mumbles shyly, head bowed.

“It’s beautiful.” Arthur nods frantically. “This must have been expensive. Why are you giving it to me?”

“It’s a silver alloy chain, and the gems on it are an emerald and two rubies. I thought they would look wonderful in your hair.”

“Arthur.” Francis lifts his head up by his chin. “Open your eyes. Please.” He does as requested, and feels his stomach drop to the ground. Shit! He’s too close! “Why are you giving me this?” He can’t think of an excuse with Francis this close!

“Because you’re my prince and you deserve a crown. But I didn’t want it to get caught in the branches, so I had this one made for you, and-and-” He’s hyperventilating.

“Breathe. Then you can tell me the and.” He nods, and forces himself to take a deep breath. He glances at his hair, smiling immediately. All of his worries melt away.

“I knew it would be perfect.” Francis gives him a pointed look. Right. “I have romantic feelings for you. It’s silly, I know, I thought bringing you this would soften the blow and make you less angry at me. Please don’t leave. I’ll try to get rid of them! I promise! Just please don’t go. I don’t know what I would ever do without you. I love you. Ah! No, I don’t! I said I’m getting rid of that! Shit, you probably want to leave and never look back after that, I’m sorry. I should g-”

“I love you too.” It’s enough to shock Arthur into silence. Francis wraps his arms around him, hugging him tightly. “How could I not? You’re the first person to show me kindness. You don’t care that I’ve been turned into this ‘monster.’ You love me exactly as I am, just as I love you exactly as you are. Please don’t go. I return your feelings.” He releases him slowly, backing up enough to look into his eyes. “I. Love. You. So much. I never thought you would love me back. So I kept it hidden. But now that I know you feel the same, I can’t keep it a secret anymore. Not that I would have anyway. When you are less shocked, can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me now,” Arthur whispers, looking into his eyes. He’s still very shocked, but he won’t say no to a kiss. Francis doesn’t waste any time. His lips are soft. _He’s_ soft. And beautiful. He’s never kissed anyone before, but he’s certain Francis is a wonderful kisser.


	5. Day Five - Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TECHNICALLY this is a café, but shh. I guess this is a human AU?  
> Warnings: Cussing, alcohol, clothed erection (no detail)

Arthur grumbles angrily as he shoves a door open, walking into the building. Stupid Alfred! He can’t believe he let him convince him to travel to France with him! And what he can’t believe even _more_ is that Alfred just _left him alone._ Abandoned him! Ignored that he even existed and went off with some friends he made a few days ago! Arthur slams himself down into a seat, glaring at anyone that dares look at him. These next three months can’t pass by fast enough. He places his head in his hands and groans. Three and a half _months_ away from home. What on Earth had he been thinking? No, he knows exactly what he was thinking. Alfred was giving him puppy eyes, so he was thinking saying yes was the fastest way to get rid of those. He should have listened to the question.

“Pardon the time it took to bring you this, sir.” Arthur’s head snaps up, and his cheeks flush pink. It’s been so long since he saw someone attractive, he nearly forgot he was bisexual. But apparently his body didn’t! He slides a hand into his lap discreetly. Thankfully, the man doesn’t seem to notice. He places an English menu in front of him with a polite smile, and continues on to the next table. Is he really that obviously a tourist? Arthur glances at the menu, frowning deeply when he sees it’s different from what he’s to. Well, he can still order tea without much trouble. He tries to ignore the extra items on the menu, but they make him curious. Alcohol? Meals? He’s used to just coffee, tea, snacks, and small desserts!

He might need some alcohol, after his morning with Alfred. He’s a handful. And a stressful one, at that. He looks up when the waiter returns, taking a deep, steadying breath. No one should be allowed to be that attractive. It’s not fair. He greets him with a smile, and asks what he would like. _You,_ he thinks at him. _I would like to have you._ Instead of answering with that, he gives a curt smile and a, “May I have some tea and a glass of champagne?” The waiter raises a brow at him.

“You might want something to eat with that, if you haven’t had anything recently. It might make you sick.” Arthur sends a hearty glare his direction.

“I _think_ I know what I’m doing with _my_ body.” It comes out harsher than he meant it to, but he’s not going to apologize for it. The stranger smiles at him.

“Of course, sir. I will be right back with that.” He bustles off, and Arthur groans quietly. Why does he always have to be super rude when he’s around someone he finds alluring? It’s a devastating flaw of his. He glances around the café, taking in the comfortable atmosphere. At least he’s got that going for him. Not that it means much, if anything. “Here you are! Will that be all?” He places the tea and champagne on the table in front of him with a bright smile. Shit. He shifts slightly, placing his other hand in his lap as well.

“Thank you very much. Yes, that will be all,” he tries saying clearly, but it comes out somewhat strained. The stranger giggles, and places the bill next to his tea. There’s writing besides the drinks on it. _You are incredibly cute. Call me, mon cher. -Francis_ His number is written neatly next to the words. Hell yeah! Score! Maybe it’s a good thing Alfred abandoned him earlier. He never would have gotten the number without being angry enough to storm in for tea. He tugs his phone out of his pocket, and takes a deep breath. He has to get this right. He types the number in carefully, and then goes to write a text. Thank goodness for international coverage.

_You are much cuter than I am, Francis. But I thank you for the compliment. I know this is not a call, but I couldn’t resist. I had to contact you immediately after reading your note. My name is Arthur._ He sends the message before he can talk himself out of it. He looks up, heart flipping happily when he sees Francis smiling at him. He must have his cellphone in his pocket. Arthur navigates over to Alfred’s number, and sends him a lot of emojis sticking their tongues out at him. Then, _Guess who just got a date and potentially a boyfriend because you decided to leave him alone today?_

_There’s absolutely no way you got a date OR a boyfriend that fast! You’re Arthur!_ The Brit rolls his eyes, sipping at his tea.

_Your confidence in me is overwhelming._ Alfred sends him a paragraph of side-eye emojis. _Hey! Fine, I’ll prove it to you. When he asks me to go out, I’ll ask him for a picture! With me, so you know I’m not pulling your leg._

_I’ll be waiting for the bad photoshop job you do._ Arthur scoffs. He’s not that bad at photoshop! But this won’t be fake. He places his phone in sleep mode, then focuses on drinking his tea. It’s better than he was expecting from France. He’ll have to give it another try elsewhere to see if it holds up, or if it’s just because Francis likes him. Either way, he finishes it entirely too fast.

The champagne is an even better idea now, since his interaction with Alfred has given him a slight headache. He sips on it lightly, enjoying the taste. It’s not something he’s very used to, but it is good. His phone vibrates again and he clicks it on, expecting another message from Alfred. It’s actually Francis. _Arthur. I like that very much. Well, Arthur, my shift ends in seven minutes. Would you like to go on a walk around the city? I can show you the best places to be._ He flushes crimson at the message. It’s a good thing speaking with Alfred killed his minor erection. And hopefully stopped any more from popping up for a few hours.

_I would like that very much. Though the person I am visiting with requests a photo of the two of us together. He does not believe in my ability to find a date so fast._ He glances up to see Francis walking about, and shrugs lightly. He probably won’t see it until he’s off, but that’s fine. Arthur finishes off his champagne at a leisurely rate, and goes to pay for it. When he’s done with that, he checks the time. One more minute. _I will be waiting outside for you._ He rushes out the door, wanting to get in a suave position before he has the opportunity to come out. He leans against the wall by the door nonchalantly, watching the people walk by. Someone touches his arm lightly, and he turns his head toward them. Francis. He’s even more beautiful up close. Stunning, even.

“Hello, Arthur,” he whispers, giving him a bright smile. It makes his knees weak. “I wouldn’t mind taking a picture with you to prove that you are indeed capable of getting a date so fast.” Oh! Right! He tugs his phone out of his pocket, and steps closer to him.

“Thank you very much.” Francis laughs quietly. **Bloody hell.** He’s too damn attractive! Arthur can’t keep his thoughts straight. No, that’s a poor choice of wording. He can’t keep his thoughts organized. He lifts his phone up and taps the selfie camera on, placing his head next to his date’s. He has a date! That’s such an amazing thought. Just as he presses the button to take the picture, Francis wraps his arms around his neck and kisses his cheek, causing his cheeks to turn red from embarrassment.

“There! That should convince him.” He drops his arms, and grabs Arthur’s free hand. “Will you send it now? I want to know how he reacts.” Wordlessly, he sends the photograph to Alfred. It isn’t very long before he messages back.

_HOLY SHIT DUDE! You weren’t kidding! And he’s HOT! If you don’t boyfriend him up, I will!_ Francis laughs, right in his ear. It sends a shudder down his spine. “I’m so sorry for him. He doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time. I’ll tell him that would be going too fast.”

“Is it though? We see each other as beautiful. I’ve kissed your cheek. We’re currently holding hands. That sort of seems like we’re dating, don’t you think?” He parts his lips to reply, but nothing comes out. “Arthur, close your mouth before I kiss you there too. Unless you want me to?”

“More than anything!” It’s out before he can place a filter on it. Francis doesn’t have to be told twice. He tilts Arthur’s head up slightly by his chin, and presses their lips together sweetly. He smirks when he pulls away.

“It’s going to be interesting, having a foreign boyfriend. But well worth it.”

**BONUS:** Francis is very happy when he opens his photos app. He managed to get a picture of them kissing! He types in Alfred’s number, having memorized it specifically for this. He sends the best picture of them kissing, and leaves it at that. Arthur turns crimson a few moments later, and lets out a quiet whine that Francis finds adorable. “You didn’t!”

“Oh but I did, mon cher. Now he has no choice but to acknowledge that you found a boyfriend.” Arthur whines louder, and buries his face in the crook of his neck. He takes the opportunity to release his hand, and wrap his arm around his waist. “You are too cute.” He kisses his hair lightly, causing him to whine again. He’s very happy Alfred left without Arthur.


	6. Day Six - FACE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh. This got INCREDIBLY out of hand. The characters took over and they didn’t want me to stop writing until this was finished. Even though that was roughly 6,600 words long. Human AU. Alfred and Matthieu are elementary schoolers, and they each have a single dad. This is the story of how the boys met, and dragged their fathers into a relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High key I love writing child Alfred, he’s adorable. And Matthieu.  
> Warnings: Cussing. There’s a blowjob at the end, BUT I’ve marked where to stop reading if you want to read to that point. The sheer freaking length of this thing deserves a warning, though it’s not technically needed.

Alfred and Matthieu literally run into each other on the playground at school. As they stand and look at each other, their similarities stick out to one another almost immediately. Alfred is the first to react. “You have my face!” He screams, pointing at the shy boy. Matthieu flinches back, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. Why did he have to run into potentially the loudest boy in the entire elementary school on his first day? And where are his glasses!? He drops to the ground, and runs his hands over the soft, slightly bouncy pad meant to keep kids from hurting themselves too much. The strange boy sits next to him, and holds out his hand. “Here. These are yours, right?” He reaches out carefully and grabs the thing offered to him. To his relief, it is his glasses. He slips them on and scowls at the boy. Apparently this is an invitation for him to start talking.

“What’s your name? Mine’s Alfred! Are you new here? I’ve never seen you here before! I think I would have noticed someone that looks so similar to me. How old are you? I’m ten! Do you think we could be brothers? I’m adopted! Dad says he doesn’t like keeping secrets from me, so I know that, but others that are adopted might not. It’s okay if you don’t know! I can ask your parent...s!? Do you have one parent, like me, or two? Hey, we should switch places! You’ll really love dad! He’s kind and caring and he makes the best scones! Though everyone else seems to dislike them, I’m not sure why. I think he’s the best cook in the whole wide world. If you don’t want to switch, you should come over after school! I know my address, so I don’t get lost. Do you know yours? No, probably not, if you just moved here. But we should totally have a sleepover! Then dad can bring us both to school tomorrow. Or we can have a weekend sleepover! Tomorrow’s Friday, after all! How does that sound? I’m excited! I made a new friend that looks just like me! Well, almost. What’s this?” He reaches out and tugs on Matthieu’s curl. He shoves his hands away quickly, cheeks flushed.

“Don’t touch that please. It’s really hard to get it to stay how I like it!” Alfred scrunches up his nose at him.

“You’re too quiet. I can barely hear you! Try speaking louder. It’s so much fun when you can be heard! And why didn’t you answer any of my questions? Oh, your glasses are different from mine! We’d have to take each other’s if we want to switch. And I’d have to get this stupid cowlick into a curl.” Alfred starts rocking back and forth happily. “You’d have to make your curl a cowlick! I think you’d look cute with one. Hmm, you have purple eyes though. I don’t. Mine are blue! I’m sure dad won’t notice though. He’s not exactly the most observant. I love him, but he’s sometimes wrapped up in his own stuff. It must be hard, being an adult. Say, why haven’t you answered my questions again?”

“Because you won’t be quiet long enough for me to speak!” He narrows his eyes at the boy. “You’re obnoxious.” He sighs heavily.

“What’s that mean? Is it a compliment? I’m going to take it as a compliment! Dad says those are nice things people say about you, to you sometimes.” He pauses long enough to take a breath. _Finally._ “I miss dad. Maybe we shouldn’t switch. I want to see him when I go home. Not that I think your parents won’t be loving!” He stops rocking, and frowns deeply at his new friend. “Hey, should I stop talking to give you a chance to talk back?” A nod, then silence.

“Alright. Now that you’re done. My name is Matthieu, I’m also ten. Daddy and I just moved here last week. It took a bit for me to get into the school system. I don’t want to switch places, or have a sleepover with you. I don’t know you.” He answers the bare minimum, despite knowing every question that was asked. He’s _not_ adopted. He would have already been told that! ...Right? Now he’s not so sure. He looks over Alfred, frowning. _He looks like my twin._ It can’t be. Can it?

“Pfffft! You still call your Dad ‘Daddy’! We’re too old for that, dude! We’re big boys now! Men.” He hops up, placing his hands on his hips in a superhero pose. “See? Men! Little men. We don’t need to call them that anymore!” Matthieu hugs himself. He doesn’t like this loud boy. He’s too energetic. He plops back down next to him, and lays his head on his shoulder. He hopes he doesn’t have head lice. “Though it would be nice to be able to call him that again. I might try it. I miss it. Thanks! Oh! Here!” He pulls something out of his pocket. “I’ll share my scone with you for that! You’ll love it.” Alfred feels the boy next to him shudder, and wraps an arm around him tightly. “It’s not cold out here. Why are you cold? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the nurse? Want me to walk with you? I will! I’ll even ask if we can go. You’re too quiet to be heard by them. Hey, that’s a good idea! I’ll be your voice from now on! Tell me what you want to say as quiet as you want, and I’ll say it as loud as I want! That’ll be great! I can’t wait to do that!”

“I’m alright,” he mumbles, staring at his fingers. He very much _dislikes_ that he likes having someone his age hug him. Sure, cuddles and hugs and kisses from his father are nice, but he always feels too big. “If I ask Daddy about sleeping over and he says yes, will you hold me like this the entire time?”

“Mmhmm!” He nods his head dramatically. “I will! Anything to make my new friend happy!”

“Then your father isn’t cooking. I’ll ask Daddy if he can make us something. He’s a professional chef.” Normally, he wouldn’t gloat about that. But he has to do _something_ to stage this kid up. He’s got so much confidence, and courage, and everything Matthieu has ever wanted. It feels like the only thing he has on him is his father’s job.

“Profes… What’s that word mean?”

“He’s very good at it.” Well, and maybe his vocabulary. But that’s nothing to brag about. That makes him a nerd. Prime picking on material. That’s part of the reason he stays so quiet and to himself. He doesn’t want to be picked on again.

“Ooooooh yes! Please! I wanna eat something he makes! Dad isn’t a chef, but he’s still the bestest cook to me! I have to say that though, he’s my dad. And I love him very much. Don’t worry though! I’ll be honest about your dad’s food. I can’t wait!” Alfred hugs his new friend tighter. “Do you live with anyone else? If not, we should totally have a mega sleepover! You and I, and our dads! I’m sure they’d love to get to know each other. What parent doesn’t want to get to know their child’s best friend’s parent?” Matthieu shrugs, not knowing what else to do. He’s never really had a friend before now. “Here!” He shoves a piece of paper into his hand. “It’s my dad’s number. I’m supposed to keep that paper in my pocket for safety reasons, but I want your dad to call him! I’ve got it memorized, I’ll write another one when we go back in. Please have him call when you get home! I want to be able to do this sleepover tomorrow! And let’s go all weekend!” He looks up, and frowns deeply. “Awwww man! It’s time to go in. You know what to do, right? I’ll talk to you later!” He stands and runs off. What a strange boy. He glances down at the paper in his hand. This is going to be interesting.

~

Alfred bursts into his father’s classroom, a million things to say about his new friend. Arthur has to take both of his hands, squeeze, and tell him to breathe. He closes his eyes to do so, and takes maybe ten deep breaths. “Do you think you can answer my questions without getting off topic now?” He nods frantically, and his dad smiles at him. “Thank you. What’s your new friend’s name?”

“Matthew! No, that’s not right. He said it really weird, I think it’s another language.”

“Perhaps. I’ll ask his father when he calls. You said he was going to do that, right?”

“Mmhmm! Can we have a sleepover tomorrow?” Arthur sighs.

“We’ll have to see. I’ve got a test tomorrow, and I might need extra time grading. I can’t watch the two of you and grade at the same time.”

“His dad can watch us! He’s coming over too, I think. He’s cooking for us. He’s a profesonel chef! And then he’s going to stay the night with you, if that’s okay? That way we can have a mega sleepover! Matthew and I, and you and his dad! We should watch movies and cuddle!” Arthur takes in the information without struggle. He’s assuming Alfred meant professional chef. He’ll have to help him with his pronunciation on that. As for the sleepover…

“I would very much like to have a sleepover with him as well, but I’m sure he has to work. I don’t mind watching the two of you if I can get my grading done. I will speak with him about that. If he doesn’t mind staying until I’m finished, you two can have your sleepover.”

“Yay!” He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, and crosses his arms over his chest. “I wanna tell him now though. Can he hurry and call!?”

“Alfred. You know not everyone works here. His dad might not even be home when he gets there. Or he might stay somewhere else until he can be picked up. Give it a little bit, alright? Here. Why don’t you draw me a picture of Matthew?” He hands him a pile of printer paper and some crayons. “That way I can know how similar you two truly are.” He runs over to one of the desks excitedly. Thank goodness that distraction worked.

~

“Daddy!” Matthieu runs toward Francis. He picks him up, and hugs him close. The boy buries his nose in his hair, smiling brightly.

“Oh? I see that smile. What brought that on? Did something good happen on your first day at your new school?” He nods, giggling quietly.

“It did! I made a new friend! I think. He looks a lot like me, Daddy. Do you know if I have a brother? We’re the same age, so he’d be my twin. He says he’s adopted, too, so I… I thought it might be possible. He said something about me being adopted? It made me think. I’ve never heard you talk about mom.” Francis sighs heavily.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way. And I’m so sorry for not telling you earlier. I just… I didn’t want you to love me any less, I suppose. You are adopted. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see you as my perfect little boy. I love you very much. You know that, right?”

“Mm, I do!” He giggles again as he nods, wrapping his arms as far around Francis’ shoulders as he can. “I sort of figured I was adopted after he said that. It’s okay! I love you exactly the same. No! Actually, I love you more now! You chose me. You didn’t have to, but you did.” He kisses his cheek. “So don’t feel bad for it, okay, Daddy? I promise it doesn’t hurt! And I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t get Alfred, if he’s my twin.”

“He is. I desperately wanted him as well, but he had already been adopted. I’m guessing by his dad now. I was told he wanted both of you, too, but was denied. He couldn’t bear to leave both of you though, so he adopted your brother. Not that there was anything wrong with you! Alfred would cry without him. He adopted the one that seemed hurt more by his absence. You’ve always been my sweet independent boy, so that makes sense. I’m glad you two have found each other though. Who knew we would move to the same area?” He laughs softly.

“It’s like fate wanted us together! All four of us.” He squeezes his shoulders lightly. “Alfred wants us to spend the night with him and his dad. Both of us. He called it a mega sleepover. You’re supposed to call to talk to him, when we get home. I got his number!” He tugs the paper out of his pocket and hands it to his father.

“Alright. I can at least call. But let’s go home first, oui?” He walks toward the vehicle, smiling at his son’s excited nod.

~

Alfred perks up when he hears Arthur’s phone ringing. That must be Matthew’s dad! “Hello, Arthur speaking.” There’s a quiet laugh from the other end that makes him blush a bit.

“Hello, Arthur. Are you Alfred’s father? I’m Matthieu’s father, Francis. He told me to call you?” So that’s how it’s pronounced.

“Ah, yes! It’s nice to speak with you. Alfred tells me he met your son today and made plans with him. I apologize. He can get carried away. He shouldn’t have decided on anything without our input.” He gives his son a pointed look.

“It’s alright! I don’t mind. I’d do anything for Matthieu’s first friend. So he mentioned the mega sleepover?”

“That he did. I told him we might have to work. But if you’re off tomorrow afternoon, they can have their sleepover. I may have to grade papers and I can’t watch them without help while I do that. If you’re okay with helping.” There’s a playful scoff.

“I’m not hearing the part where I stay all night, like they have planned.”

“I- You can! Please don’t think you aren’t welcome! I thought you would have to work is all.” His cheeks flush crimson.

“You’re forgiven. For now. I make sure I have the weekends off to spend time with Matthieu. If he wants that time to be with Alfred and you as well, then I’ll gladly go with him.”

“I would do the same for Alfred.” A comfortable silence falls between them. After a moment, he remembers something. “Oh! Alfred said they planned for us to sleep together.” He lowers his voice so his son can’t hear. “They don’t realize we aren’t as carefree as them. We can discuss sleeping arrangements when you arrive. I’ll send you the address. What time should I expect you?”

“Around five. I have something important to talk to you about as well.”

“Alright. We will eagerly await your arrival tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Have a wonderful rest of your day.” This makes Arthur blush even more.

~

Francis looks back at Matthieu when he pulls up to Arthur and Alfred’s house. “You ready for your first sleepover, kiddo?” He hugs his stuffed polar bear tighter to his chest.

“I-I think so! But my legs are all wobbly. Can you carry me in?”

“Of course I will. Anything for my sweet little boy.” He hops out, and opens Matthieu’s door. He unbuckles him from his carseat, and picks him up. He grabs hold of his overnight bag as well, then closes the door, making sure to lock up the vehicle. He kisses Matthieu’s hair reassuringly, and walks up to the door. “Do you want to knock?”

“Yes please!” He reaches out and taps the door. Apparently Arthur is waiting for them to arrive, because the door swings open a second later.

“Hello, and welcome to our home.” Matthieu wiggles to be let down before they even get inside, and Francis places him down carefully.

“Thank you very much! Alfred! Where are you!?” He runs into the house.

“He’s usually very shy. I’m glad he’s found a friend that he feels comfortable around.” He looks at Arthur, who’s got a shocked expression on his face. “What?”

“He and Alfred look almost exactly alike,” he whispers.

“Oui, they do. But you know why.”

“He’s the twin I couldn’t adopt,” his voice is louder now, though barely. Francis nods.

“He is. I’m happy they found each other. But what are the chances we would move to the same area?” He laughs heartily. “It’s like fate wanted them together again. I’m glad.”

“How are we going to tell them that?”

“I’ve already told Matthieu. I hadn’t realized you didn’t tell Alfred yet.”

“I didn’t think they looked as similar as he said. Alfred has a tendency to hyperbolize everything.” Francis snorts quietly. Arthur scoffs. “What? Did you not expect an English teacher to use that word?”

“An English teacher, hmm? That only slightly explains your inability to cook. Alfred offered Matthieu some of the scone you made him, and he told me he feared for his life.” Arthur snaps his head around, ready to chew him out. His heart skips a beat. It’s the first time he’s looked at Francis, and he feels light headed. He’s beautiful. Shit! This isn’t good! His house guest is super fucking **attractive!**

“Not all of us can be professional chefs,” he settles on, looking away again.

“Oui, that is true. Though I can teach you, if you would like to learn?” He shouldn’t take the offer. That’s torturing himself. But he finds himself nodding. “Great! We can start tonight. After you’re done grading, of course. I’ll go watch the boys until then. Where might I find them?” Arthur steps back, and points at the door to Alfred’s room silently. He smiles at him, and walks toward it. Well shit. He’s royally fucked. ~

“You have a stuffed polar bear?” Matthieu nods sheepishly. “Cool! Are they a comfort item? I have one of those! His name is Toni. He’s an alien!” He crawls up on his bed, and grabs Toni. “See? I sleep with him every night. Does yours have a name?” He nods once. “Nice! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know it can be personal.” He shrugs, and slides back down to the floor, holding Toni close. “What do you wanna do first? Dad’s still got to grade some, but we can start on the fun! They can join later. We’ll get the ball rolling. Whatever that means. I’ve heard dad use it a few times, so I know I’m using it right!” Matthieu giggles quietly. He really likes his brother. They’re each other’s opposite. Perfect for completing each other. He wraps his arms around him, giving him a big hug. “What’s this for?”

“To show you how much I love you.” Alfred brings his arms up to hug him back.

“I love you too! So much. And we’re going to love each other even more, as the night continues! I can’t wait for it.” Someone opens his door, and he turns his head to it. “Oh! Hello there! You must be Matthew’s dad! You’re very pretty, you know. Prettier than most women I know!” He chuckles softly.

“Thank you. I’m glad to see you two getting along. Matthieu, do you want to change into your night clothes?”

“Please!” Francis smiles fondly, and hands him his overnight bag.

“Oh! Of course! You can change in my bathroom!” Alfred points at a door inside his room. “It’s over there!” How sweet of Arthur to give him the ensuite room. Though he did the same for Matthieu. They must think similarly. He watches his son walk into the room after pulling out his clothes. “Hey! You should change into your night clothes too! Jeans are uncomfortable.” He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I have to cook first. But I will when I’m finished, alright?”

“Pinky promise?” He holds out his hand.

“Pinky promise.” He kneels, and grabs Alfred’s pinky with his own. The boy grins, and throws his arms around him. “Aren’t you quite the hugger?” He laughs. “I’m glad Matthieu made friends with someone so friendly.”

“Matthew’s great! I love him already. He loves me, too! He told me so.” He pulls away to cross his arms over his chest proudly. “But I’m sure he loves you still! Just like I love my dad still.”

“I’m sure he does. Love isn’t a limited feeling. The more it’s needed, the more it shows up.” Alfred furrows his brows slightly.

“Matthew and I don’t love you both any less, but we love each other more than we did. Does that mean if you and dad come to love each other, you will still love us the same you already do?” Francis feels his cheeks heat up slightly in embarrassment. He picks Alfred up and brushes his nose against his cheek.

“That’s right. We might love you both even more by then. If that happens. I’m not going to promise it will. But it could.” Alfred’s eyes light up.

“Then you would move in together and Matthew and I would never have to be apart! Except for at school, but everywhere else we could be together!” He gasps. “We could have sleepovers every night!” He wiggles out of Francis’ arms and runs over to Matthieu, who’s just come out of the bathroom. “We have to get our dads together! We’d be able to have a sleepover every night! We’d live in the same house! Let’s get them together, pleeeeeeeeeeeease!”

“Daddy says love isn’t something you can force. And they’d have to be in love for that to happen.” Alfred’s bottom lip trembles, and he starts crying. “Hey! Okay! Alright! We can try. Just stop crying. Please.” He wipes at his tears. “I don’t want to see someone I love crying.” He hugs him tightly. “Just don’t be disappointed if they don’t wind up loving each other, okay?” Alfred nods, hiccuping slightly from his outburst of tears. “Shh. I’m right here. I’ll soothe you.” He glances up at his father, who’s standing in the doorway with an amused expression. “Go find Arthur, Daddy! We’ll be fine!”

“Yeah! We’ve got to plot! Shew! Go! You can’t hear any of this!” He laughs, and leaves the room without protest. He finds Arthur, and leans against the wall next to him.

“Just thought you should know, our sons are plotting ways to get us together currently. They want a sleepover every night.” Arthur groans quietly, but doesn’t look up from his grading.

“It was Alfred’s idea, wasn’t it? No need to answer, I know it was. I’d hate to disappoint them. Should we just let them plot for now?” Francis raises a brow.

“Don’t you think we should stop it before it becomes something serious?”

“I’ve never seen him this happy. I want to enjoy it a bit more before I tell him anything.” He sighs softly. “I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass when I told him boys could love boys, and girls could love girls. And everyone in between.”

“I wondered why he used a neutral term for Matthieu’s polar bear. Now I know. He’s got a wonderful father.” He notices Arthur’s cheeks turn red.

“I’m only teaching him love and acceptance. That shouldn’t mean I’m a wonderful father. It should be the norm.”

“But it isn’t. And that’s what makes you wonderful for doing it. I’m teaching Matthieu the same things.” Arthur looks up at him. “It’s relieving, knowing I can make a friend with the same views I have about that.”

“I suppose it is. But are we friends? We aren’t their age anymore. Looking at each other doesn’t make us friends.”

“Maybe not. But I would say trusting me to watch your child, and trusting me to be in your house, counts as friendship. I view us as friends. Don’t you?” Arthur rolls his eyes, and goes back to grading.

“I know you wouldn’t do anything. You’ve got a child as well. We aren’t friends because we don’t know much about each other.” Francis scoffs.

“Then let’s change that. You’re an English teacher. I’m a chef. Your name is Arthur. Mine is Francis. We both have beautiful little boys that are actually twins. That alone should be enough for us to be friends.”

“I really must finish grading. Please, leave me be. We can speak when we cook. Feel free to sit on the couch and watch something. I have a feeling Alfred and Matthieu will come out if they hear the television going.” Not wanting to push anything, Francis does as he’s told. Arthur was right; the two boys come out less than a minute after he turns on the television, and cuddle up to him and each other.

~

“Well, good to see you three getting along.” Arthur smiles at them. Alfred launches himself into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“You’re finished! Yay! Can we have macaroni and cheese tonight? And chicken nuggets!”

“Some corn, too?” Comes Matthieu’s quiet voice. Before he can respond, Francis is speaking.

“Of course you can.” He kisses both of them on the forehead, then looks at Arthur. “But I won’t stand for boxed food. Can you watch after Matthieu for a bit? I’m going to get ingredients.” He nods slowly. “Merci!” He pulls his car keys out of his pocket, and is out the door before Arthur can comprehend what happened.

“Ooooooh! Chef food!” Matthieu lets out a snort of laughter. It reminds both of the people with him of his father’s amused laugh.

~

“Sorry I ran out so fast. I was inspired. Can you put on a movie for the boys? Then meet me in the kitchen!” He hurries to the room, washing his hands while he waits on Arthur. He grins at him when he comes into the room a few minutes later. “Great! Wash your hands.” He does so silently. “Do you know how to make corn on the cob?”

“Boil some water, right?”

“Okay. Can you get some bowls for the chicken? I’m going to bread it.”

“What? Is that not how you make corn?” Francis smiles sweetly at him.

“It’s better in the oven.” Arthur blushes slightly. He feels silly now. Why has he never thought of that? “It’s alright. I don’t expect you to know all of my tricks. That’s why I’m teaching you. If you knew them already, there wouldn’t be a point in doing this.” Arthur nods slowly. That makes sense! He hurries to pull out some bowls for Francis. “You can boil some water for the macaroni though. After we make the noodles.” Make the noodles!? What on Earth!

“Are we doing _everything_ from scratch?”

“Absolutely.” This is going to be a long prep. “Let’s see… Noodles first. They have to rest for a bit. I can cut the chicken while that happens.” He pulls out some ingredients, and starts whisking them together. He explains exactly what he’s doing to Arthur, smiling the entire time. Once the pasta is resting, he washes his hands again, and shifts to cutting the chicken into cubed pieces. He covers them in a flour, season salt, salt, and pepper mix, dips them in egg, then in breadcrumbs. He places each one carefully on a pan, placing them in the oven when he’s finished. Arthur’s stomach knots up nervously when he leans close to him to wash his hands. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He shakes his head quickly.

“I think I can do that in the future.”

“Good. They’re much healthier than anything store bought. And tastier. I’m sure Alfred will appreciate it.” He pulls away, and Arthur lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “On to the pasta!” He starts folding it delicately. Arthur… tries. And very miserably fails. “Here. Like this.” He takes his hands and moves them carefully, showing him how to do it. He can feel his heart beating fast. Francis is stunning. He feels special, having him here to teach him all of this. “Try on your own?” He does, focusing hard on the dough in front of him. He actually manages to make one.

“I did it!” He smiles brightly, laughing a bit. “I didn’t think it was possible! Thank you!” He turns to hug him, and freezes. Right. They’re not close enough for that. He goes back to making pasta, head bowed and cheeks flushed. When they’re finished, Francis places them aside, washes his hands again, and fills a pot with water to boil it. Arthur washes his hands, and starts shucking the corn. At least he can do that! Francis watches him curiously, but doesn’t comment. Hopefully that means he’s doing good? He hands them off to the man when they’re clean, and he places them on a sheet to be buttered.

“It’s sweet corn, so it’s better to only butter them. Other types you want to prepare differently.” Arthur nods. He’s actually understanding this! “Would you like to put them in?” He carefully takes the pan, and slides them into the oven, next to the chicken nuggets. He trusts that Francis knows what he’s doing. “Now for the macaroni.” He pushes them into the boiling water, and stares intently at them. He drains them way sooner than Arthur expected. Seeing his confusion, Francis explains it to him. “Fresh pasta cooks a lot faster.” “Ah.” He bows his head again, blushing more. He glances up just in time to see his companion adding shredded cheese and milk to the noodles. “Even the cheese has to be made like this?”

“It’s better this way, trust me.” He bites his bottom lip, and measures out some breadcrumbs. He tosses those into the macaroni and cheese, and stirs them in. That’s… interesting. “They’re really good. I promise.” He gives him a reassuring smile, then checks on the items in the oven. He pulls out the corn, but leaves the chicken nuggets. Maybe three minutes pass before he deems them done. He turns to grin at Arthur. “Doesn’t that feel better? Oh, by the way, you’re covered in flour from the pasta.” He brushes his shirt off lightly. _Fuck._ His hand is warm, and gentle, and Arthur steadfastly ignores the pleasure that comes from him touching his chest.

“I should probably go change. You should, too.” He gives him a polite, slightly concerned smile. “You must be hot in that. I don’t know how you cook with sleeves.”

“I guess I’m used to it. But oui, I’ll change too. Then we can all eat!”

~ Did Arthur already mention he’s royally fucked? Because he is. He’s been staring at Francis for the past two and a half hours. He only knows it’s been that long because that’s the length of the movie that just ended. He didn’t watch a second of it. “I’m glad we were able to tell the boys they’re actually twins. I think they took it well. Don’t you?” He looks at the two between them. They’re snuggled up to each other, asleep. Matthieu is beside Francis, and Alfred is beside him.

“I think they’re happy to have each other in any way. Being brothers just makes it better.” Francis nods thoughtfully.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about their plan to get us together.” Not this. Anything but this. “I don’t think we should ruin their fun.”

“We have to. We can’t let them think there’s a possibility of moving in together sometime soon.” Francis looks him dead in the eyes.

“Who’s to say there isn’t a possibility? I know you’ve been staring at me. For the entire length of the movie. Do you even know what we just watched?” His face turns crimson, and he jerks his head to the side. “I thought so. Don’t worry though.” He carefully reaches over the boys to grab Arthur’s hand and squeeze, causing him to look at him again. “The only reason I know you’ve been staring at me is because I’ve been staring at you. More discreetly, of course, but I have. You’re cute. And I love your eagerness to learn. I hope that exists in every category.” He winks at him, then runs his tongue along his teeth. Arthur shudders at the implications.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he huffs out indignantly. Francis raises a brow at him. It’s a challenge. _Are you sure this is the route you want to take?_ It is. “Besides, I’m only eager to learn because there’s so much I don’t know yet.”

“I can teach you something right now, if you want.” He squeezes his hand again. “I know I want to.” He licks his lips.

“That depends on what it is. And where our relationship stands if it’s what I think it is.”

“It’s definitely not as bad as what you’re thinking it is. But I won’t do it if you aren’t willing. As for our relationship… Will you be my boyfriend?” There’s the word. That darn word that has Arthur’s face practically on fire from the embarrassment! He nods, feeling too shy to say anything. “Good. Now I want to teach you something.” He releases his hand, and carefully stands, making sure not to wake the boys. He picks Arthur up, still being cautious. “Where’s your room?”

##  _**This is your stopping point if you’re not reading the blowjob part** _

“U-upstairs. First door on the right.” He clings to Francis tightly, stomach twisting nervously. He makes his way to the room, and sets Arthur down on the bed. To his relief, he doesn’t get over him. Instead, he kneels by the bed after locking the door. “Oh! You want to do that!” He covers his face. Wearing sweatpants wasn’t the best idea. It’s super easy to tell he’s horny.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” He nods nervously.

“I am.” Francis grabs both of his thighs from behind and squeezes reassuringly.

“I promise to be gentle.” He presses a heated kiss to his bulge. Shit that feels good! It’s been too long since someone else touched him. He lets out a quiet whine.

“More. Please.”

“Non, not until you’re completely hard.” He kisses it again. Arthur’s breath hitches, and he tilts his head back. “You’re very sensitive. This will be fun.” He tightens his grip on his thighs, and sucks lightly. Arthur squirms a bit. This will be _really_ fun. “Try not to wake Alfred and Matthieu,” he mumbles before tugging at his pants. He lifts his hips up, letting him slip them off easily. He can’t help but smile when he sees his underwear. “Superman.”

“Shush. Alfred picked them out. He wanted me to know I’m his hero. Now continue. _Please._ ” Francis nods, and sucks on his bulge again. He jerks slightly, letting out a faint squeak. He breathes out through his mouth to tease him, and is surprised to feel hands in his hair.

“That’s how you want to play?” Arthur nods. Francis smirks, and bites down lightly on the fabric. His hair gets tugged on, and Arthur jolts slightly.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. He reaches for his pillow, and brings it to his mouth so he can bite down on it. He’s not going to be able to keep himself silent. Francis bites down again, and he moans heartily into the fabric. His erection is already nearly as hard as it can be. “You’re good with your mouth,” he mumbles into the pillow.

“I know I am~” He nips at it lightly, then tugs on his underwear. Arthur lifts himself up, letting him take them. He presses a kiss to the head with a smirk. “Beautiful,” he whispers before taking all of it into his mouth. Arthur is definitely going to take advantage of him seemingly not having a gag reflex. He bucks his hips, reveling in the quiet noise of surprise Francis makes. He pulls on his hair, guiding him up his shaft a bit. He pulls away from his pillow to talk.

“It’s really hard to resist doing what I want, so I’m going to ask if it’s okay. I won’t do it if you say no, but I really want to fuck your mouth. Can I?” Francis’ eyes widen slightly. Arthur smirks, knowing that’s not what he expected. “What? I like being in control~” He watches the man shudder, then nod. Immediately, he starts moving his hips. Slowly at first, then a bit faster. Francis tightens his jaw slightly, causing him to drag his teeth along the top. Arthur shoves his pillow back in his mouth and moans loudly. He tries to make eye contact, but he tightens his jaw again. Arthur tosses his head back in pleasure as his teeth rake along the top and bottom. Francis brings a hand up, running it along his thigh. He pauses to fondle him for a moment, then continues back more. He pushes one finger into Arthur, and he screams into the pillow. He’s close! And coming undone.

He tugs harder on his hair, now guiding his head back and forth, in time with his hip thrusts. “ _Oh God!_ ” it’s loud enough to hear through the pillow. He lets himself enjoy it for a few more moments, before deciding he’s too close to tempt fate. He releases Francis’ hair and scoots back, but he comes with. “You want me to…?” He nods. Arthur flushes crimson, but grabs his hair again. He gives a few smaller thrusts, then a big one that pulls a scream-moan from his lips and lets him reach his release. He rides it out, thrusting a few more times, before releasing Francis’ hair for the night. He feels the finger slip out of him and shudders. They both pant heavily, not looking at each other. Just as he parts his lips to ask Francis if he wants the same done to him, he moans loudly, trembling with pleasure. “Did you just…?”

“Masturbate while I was sucking you off and finish while I was swallowing down your release? Yes.” Arthur shoves his face into the pillow, completely embarrassed. He peeks out when he feels a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to clean up a bit. Then we should put the boys to bed. Can we sleep together tonight?”

“You don’t need to ask,” he mumbles out shyly. He hugs the pillow to his chest, and sticks his tongue out at Francis. “I want you to sleep with me.” He smiles brightly. “And I’m happy to report you taught me some very valuable information that I will be using in the future. Hopefully the near future.” He winks at him. “Oh, and the bathroom is across the hall. Towels are in the linen closet.” He blows him a kiss as he opens the door. “Have fun, sexy.” His ears turn red and he leaves the room quickly. Arthur stands, stretching himself out. He’s not got any mess to clean up, so he pulls his clothes back on and wanders out into the hall. He meets up with Francis, who kisses him deeply. He doesn’t even mind not knowing if he brushed his teeth or not.

“Let’s put those two to bed and make out until we fall asleep.”

“That sounds wonderful.”


	7. Day Seven - Free (Hair)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me FOREVER to decide on a topic for this day. I’m not good with free days lol. But I’m proud of this! They’re so cute! (Also someone please draw France with his hair in the last part 🥺 I’ll love you forever. I would do it but I can’t art unless it’s TINY, a painting, writing, or I take FOREVER.)

Francis scoffs loudly when he sees Arthur up close for the first time in months. “I can’t come over because I have business to attend to in my country, and you forget how to properly take care of yourself? Unacceptable!” Arthur can’t help but smile. His tone is condescending, but he knows it comes from a place of love. Francis takes his hand, and leads him into his bathroom. “Thank goodness I brought my shampoo. What _have_ you been using?” He looks at the shelves in his shower, and scoffs. “Arthur! Two in one? Really? Must I teach you how horrible that is for your hair again?” He shakes his head, and starts the water for a bath. “I’ll wash your hair for you. I might be able to do something with the horrible state it’s in.” He lets the water run over his wrist for a moment, before plugging the tub after determining it’s a good temperature. “Honestly.” He shakes his head. “Get in. I’ll be right back.” He leaves the room.

“The shampoo and conditioner you told me to use are too expensive,” he mumbles to the empty room. He glances at his reflection, and grimaces. His hair really _does_ look awful. Maybe he’ll actually start using what Francis said was the best for him. He removes his clothes, carefully setting them aside. He adds a bit of bubbles to the running water, and slips into the bathtub. The hot water immediately starts working on muscles he hadn’t realized were tight. He smiles to himself. Francis must have noticed, and that’s why he started the bath instead of a shower. He’s more observant than most give him credit for. Arthur turns off the water, then tilts his head back and sighs in content. He closes his eyes, relaxing a bit more in the water. It feels too nice not to.

“I’m glad I brought my hair care items! Non, I’m glad I’m staying a couple of weeks. One wash will do next to nothing for that amount of damage! Be glad I love you, I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” He turns to the tub, and smiles when he sees his love’s eyes closed. “Good. You needed to relax. How long has it been since you let yourself unwind?” Arthur flushes crimson, opening his eyes slowly.

“A week before we last saw each other.” Francis clicks his tongue. “I know. I should take better care of myself. I’m sorry.” He looks at him pleadingly.

“Don’t give me that expression. And don’t apologize. You know I like taking care of you.” He smiles sweetly at him. “Close your eyes again. I don’t want to get anything in them.” Arthur does as he’s told, relaxing again. Francis sits next to the tub, filling a cup he brought with him with water. He pours it over the Brit’s head, wetting his hair. He runs his fingers through it, making sure it’s all wet. He nods to himself, and squeezes some shampoo into his hand. He rubs it into Arthur’s hair, smiling a bit at the bubbles it makes. He makes sure it coats his hair thoroughly, and lets it sit for a few minutes. He rinses it out carefully, making sure not to get any near his eyes. “One more. Your hair feels better already. Honestly, Arthur, why on earth do you use that stuff? It’s damaging your hair!” He shakes his head, opening his conditioner bottle. He rubs it into his hair, using a generous amount. It’s probably too much, but this conditioner is meant to heal damaged hair. A little extra won’t hurt.

“I know. I’m going to throw it out. I won’t even finish it. I just wish what you told me was best for my hair wasn’t so expensive!” Francis chuckles quietly.

“Taking proper care of your hair means spending more money. But it’s worth it. You don’t want it to be dry and brittle, do you? It’s so easy to break when it is! Then you have to get a haircut, get a treatment, there’s so much to do if you don’t take proper care of it! Besides, I like your hair the length it is. It’s perfect. Just like you.” He presses a soft, gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t be so sappy,” Arthur grumbles, face turning red. Francis lets out a bark of laughter.

“Why not? I only speak the truth, mon cher. You are perfect to me.”

“If I had my eyes open, I would be rolling them.”

“Non, do not open them. I am about to rinse again.” He fills the cup with water, and pours it over his head. He runs his fingers through his hair, pouring more water over it. He does this a few times, until he no longer feels product in his hair. “There. Now you may open them.” Arthur opens his eyes slowly, immediately staring into his love’s.

“Kiss me before I get you wet trying to kiss you, my beautiful.” Francis presses his lips to Arthur’s lovingly. He pulls away after a moment, smiling at him.

“I shall leave you be. Enjoy your bath. I will be on your couch, watching something. Love you!” He runs out of the room quickly, taking his cup, shampoo, and conditioner with him. Arthur rolls his eyes, but sinks down in the water nonetheless. He feels better from the shampoo and conditioner. Maybe he’ll take a nap. That sounds nice. He closes his eyes yet again, feeling content.

~

Arthur thanks the florist hurriedly, and hugs the two bouquets of flowers to his chest as he runs outside. He places them in his passenger seat, and turns on his vehicle. He glances at them every now and then as he drives home, making sure they’re okay. They make it without even a sign of wilting, and he rushes inside. He places one on his bed, and holds the other in his arms. He takes a deep breath and walks to the front door, waiting for Francis to get back. He doesn’t have to wait long. He opens the door for him, and holds out the bouquet. His eyes widen, and he smiles brightly. “Red roses! Oh Arthur. Thank you. So much. I love you.” He spins Arthur around, then kisses him passionately, being careful not to crush the flowers. When he pulls away, he also takes the roses.

“That’s not all. Put those in a vase, then sit on the couch with your eyes closed. I want to do something else for you.” Francis raises a brow at him, but doesn’t ask any questions. He goes into the kitchen to search for a vase, and Arthur runs to his bedroom. _Their_ bedroom, when his love is visiting. He picks up some scissors he placed on the bedside table earlier, and carefully cuts the flower heads off, leaving a bit of stem. He gathers them up, and goes to find Francis, who is exactly where he told him to be. The roses are on the coffee table in front of him, looking almost as stunning as him. “I’m going to touch your hair now. Please trust me, and don’t open your eyes!”

“Oui, alright. But you better not mess up my hair! I put too much effort into keeping it flawless.” Arthur laughs quietly.

“I know. Hopefully I’m improving it. At least for the day.” He can tell this catches Francis’ interest, but he doesn’t ask about it. Thank goodness. He takes a small section of his hair, and starts braiding it. When he gets a good start, he grabs one of the flowers and weaves it into the braid. He finishes the braid off, then adds another one. He braids another section next to it, weaving one flower into the area between the two from the last one. He continues on like this, alternating the design, until he’s out of flowers and hair to braid. “Alright! Now go look in the mirror.”

“I am very interested in what you have done.” Arthur grins at him, and motions him toward the mirror. He laughs, and goes to look at his reflection. The moment he sees it, his hands fly up to his mouth. “Oh Arthur… It’s beautiful.” He turns and hugs his love tightly. When he releases him, he turns back to his reflection. There’s two-toned irises of many different colours woven into his hair, in the braids he felt Arthur making.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers, wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses a chaste kiss to the side of his neck. “They just accent your beauty.” He stares at their reflection, and smiles. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.” He smirks. “And you’re very lucky too, you know.” Francis laughs, turning his head to kiss the corner of Arthur’s mouth.

“I am. What did you do this for? And don’t try to tell me because you felt like being romantic, I know you better than that.” The Brit laughs.

“You caught me. I wanted to thank you for putting up with my stubbornness. I know I can be a handful sometimes. But you still love me. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate that. Especially since you have to go back to France in a few days. I don’t want you to go, but I know you must. This is the least I can do to show you I love you.” Francis wraps his arms around him tightly.

“I love you too. And I will cherish these flowers until they die. They aren’t coming out of my hair, I don’t care if I have to miss a day or two of washing it. These are more important. You are more important. I hope you know that.”

“I do.” He nuzzles him. “Now get off of me before we get any more sappy.” He shoves him away, cheeks crimson. “I’m not embarrassed! You are!” Francis laughs, nodding quietly. There’s the Arthur he knows and loves. So very much.


End file.
